


Mist and Heather

by JQ (musicmillennia)



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Greek Mythology, Breathplay, Fix-It, Len is literally the Kraken okay he likes to squeeze things, M/M, Sea Monsters, Sibling Bonding, Strangulation, erotic asphyxiation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-08
Updated: 2017-06-08
Packaged: 2018-11-10 21:31:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11135082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musicmillennia/pseuds/JQ
Summary: It's only when he's back in the sea that he remembers.[Kraken Leonard Snart]





	Mist and Heather

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nirejseki](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nirejseki/gifts).



> Me: *sees tumblr post about octopus sneaking out of its cage like a thief*  
> Me: huh. kinda like leonard snart  
> Brain: write about giant octopus leonard snart―write about kraken leonard snart  
> Me: but. but why  
> Brain: you gotta
> 
> so yeah. what is this? i don't know. but i wrote it anyway.
> 
> Dedicated to nirejseki, 'cause I thought you'd enjoy this crazy mythos idea since you write all your awesome myth aus

Leonard is torn apart and cast to the depths. Seems like Time itself is a sea in its own right. Feels like one, anyway―or maybe he just can't comprehend it, so his mind is trying to compensate with something he knows.

Not that he knows the sea, really. His dad never let him near the ocean. Closest he and Lisa ever got was Shark Week and online photos. They always told each other they'd take a vacation there once they were free of Lewis, but they never did. Never will, now.

Maybe Lisa will go on her own.

Scattered pieces of himself drown at their own pace, gurgling and choking on memories and timelines that only might be theirs.

When he's buried in the deepest currents, he hears a voice.

_"My child. My son."_

It is a deep voice, echoing with thousands of years of rage. A tempest and a whirlpool all in one.

 _"My child,"_ the riptide growls,  _"you will be my vengeance."_

Leonard closes his eyes (does he have eyes?) and sees―

* * *

an island, bathed in sunlight, surrounded by sea, with stormclouds gathering on the horizon. He is in a shallow pool, closed off by serrated rocks from the frothing waves.

A woman stands over him, hands held out as if to cradle him. Her eye color keeps changing with the sea, green to blue to ice blue to dark blue to black to―"They have shackled me, but you. You, my son, will see to it that they know their misdeeds."

He feels her heart, the heart that burned cold enough to make the darkest parts of the ocean coalesce and pulse until he rose from their trenches and came to her. The heart that was betrayed for following what it believed in, the heart that will never stop being broken. She is trapped, his mother, confined in chains of bone and sinew.

"You will grow strong," she hisses, eyes wide and bright against her shining dark skin. "Powerful. You will become a legend, and all who know you will know me."

He can see it, though he is still small: he will encompass ships, consume the unwary sailors, and roar in his mother's voice until the waters quake and remember the nymph that ascended to something so much greater. He will be strong, strong like his grandfather, who is cursed with the greatest burden.

But...

He blinks large eyes at his mother.

She laughs bitterly. "I do sentence you to a lonely existence. But perhaps there is mercy in me yet."

And from the light of the seas that embrace the brightest sunlight comes his sister, heather-back, beautiful and new, smaller than him but bound to grow.

His mother does not intend to, but he learns compassion and love right then and there.

"Now you will know what I will never know again," she snarls. "Now go. I have nothing for you here."

The waves carry him and his sister away from that terrible island where the sun always shines and the fruit is always sweet.

His sister can carry other islands on her back. She allows settlers on her, lets them reproduce and expand, before diving under and drowning them all.

As for him, he does as his mother wished. He embraces ships, devours their lives to the last scrap of wood and bone. He crunches on their treasures, and finds that jewels tasted the sweetest, but not as sweet as the sailors' screams and Poseidon's cries of rage. He thrives in the coldest, darkest parts of the ocean, where his sister swims to the sunlit surface. They rarely meet, but he can feel her, even on the opposite ends of the world.

They do become legends. They are given names. Aspidochelone and Leviathan. Lyngbakr and Hafgufa. Whale and Kraken.

(Once, his sister sings him a story of how some of her hapless inhabitants speak of a giant sea turtle, peaceful and loving. He bares his bloody teeth and laughs tremors in the ocean floor.)

They never see their mother. But they always feel that cold burning, that lust for blood and riches, to be known and seen and heard. They do not know if they will ever die―legends never do―but they are content as they can be, as they have never known anything else.

Until their punishment comes.

* * *

A despicable human is given power unknown to any before him. The Olympians chose him in particular because they were spiteful, as they always are when someone disagrees with them.

This human goes to the sea. He will not remember, as is ordained, but he will step into the oceans and wrangle monsters with his bare hands. Like their mother before them, they will become less than they are.

Their ultimate punishment is for their mother: they will not remember their birth. They will not remember being anything but this man's children.

Leonard Snart is born with the man's wife's name on his certificate and placed in a hospital bassinet. He is the loveliest infant by far, and dressed in a dark blue whose shade never seems to settle (green to blue to ice blue to dark blue to black to―)

* * *

There is something about the Snart siblings that draws people in, lost ships to lighthouses.

Lisa makes friends, but always has a falling out.

Leonard soon learns it's better to let them sink.

When his father turns on his sister, there is cold under his skin. He almost,  _almost_ glimpses something, a feeling of being  _more_ , of anger no human body can take, but then his father beats him and it's gone.

He's thrown in juvie two weeks later on a shit job. He tries to help his dad, he really does. He loves his dad. That's what good sons do, isn't it?

He is a good son. He―he  _has_ to be a good son.

* * *

Another lost ship sails to him. But this one is a fire ship, blazing as it crashes onto shore. It fights for him, wraps around its enemies and devours them, breaks their bones and gnashes its teeth in delight as they fall.

"Name's Mick," says his fire ship, bloodied and bruised but still ready to set another course.

Leonard lets this one stay.

* * *

When they get out, Leonard continues to test the waters. He needs to know what Mick is like on the outside.

Still blazing, still impulsive, still heading right for his own destruction with each match he lights. But Leonard will keep him. He likes him.

Mick meets Lisa. He's awkward at best, since the last kids he tried to be nice to burned in a fire. But when he makes a few stuttering compliments about the little pot of heather in Lisa's bedroom window, she latches on.

Mick brings her treasure. He stands up for Leonard. They fight explosively, they punch and bite and yell, and once the tidal wave crashes and settles, they come back to each other. Lather, rinse, repeat.

But Leonard always liked a little violence.

On his twentieth birthday, he gets drunk and kisses Mick. When he's sober, he doesn't regret it, so Mick kisses back.

Leonard wraps his hands around him and suffocates him, but Mick just reaches back.

Leonard decides he'll destroy Mick before Mick will destroy himself.

In a way, he's right.

* * *

He and Mick, they grow close. Become partners. They get good at their jobs and terrorize the city, crunching jewels in their hands.

And sometimes―sometimes―Leonard will be the one who breaks more bones, who sinks his teeth into human skin like butter and tear it off. But he will never remember, and Mick will never talk. Because Mick likes him too, likes his brand of crazy, likes his burning cold and that brain of his that's bigger than anybody he's ever met.

Maybe that's why Leonard decided to keep him. Mick looks at him and sees more than there should be.

And that's. That's  _right_ , somehow.

But when Mick tries to destroy himself, Leonard stares at him in the aftermath, vulnerable and charred, and he destroys him with a few sharp words and a turn of his heel.

There is a writhing under his skin. ( _My child, my vengeance_ ―)

* * *

Everything is cold. But Leonard adores the cold.

He is warm with Lisa and no one else. He gnashes his teeth and, when guns don't satisfy him, wraps his arms around someone's neck and squeezes, squeezes, squeezes.

Lisa watches. The look on her face says she knows she should be frightened. Then she reels another person in, lets them piggy-back off her success, then leaves them to drown in sirens and life sentences, and she returns to her brother with a smile and a kiss on the cheek.

They always feel like they're starving. This barely sates them, but it'll have to be enough.

(Why does it have to be enough?)

(Floating in Time, he finally realizes why.)

* * *

When he sees a man who harnesses lightning, his first thought is he has to defeat him.

Leonard doesn't know why, but he  _hates_ lightning. Always has, probably always will. Never did anything but frighten his baby sister and raze everything to the ground. He hates it, he hates it, he  _hates it_.

He doesn't hate the Flash.

He's given a new name. One that can be known, seen, and heard. One that can freeze.

One that makes a  _damn_ good pun.

Lisa laughs herself sick over it.

Before raising her eyebrow and saying, "You know what would make it better?  _Fire_ and ice."

His little sister always knows just what to say.

Leonard smirks. His eyes catch the lighting, blue to green to black to blue. "You're right, sis. Time we bring back a player."

She smiles primly and sips her wine. It stains her mouth red.

* * *

Mick is scarred and  _gorgeous_.

Leonard licks his chops and presents his gift. He makes a pretty speech, one he knows Mick's not listening to, but the fact that he goes uninterrupted says something right there.

"Yeah, buddy. I'm in."

His fire ship sails home.

They fuck in the cheap motel bed. Leonard wraps tightly around him with all of his limbs (half-delirious, he wonders,  _where's the rest of me?_ ) and  _squeezes_ , just like he did on everybody who wanted out.

Mick chokes and turns purple. He moans as much as he can and uses what strength he has left to spread his legs. Leonard loosens, and he coughs, splutters, and comes.

What a reckless man.

Dazed from his own orgasm, Leonard tells him, "I'll sink a thousand ships for you."

Mick, who's used to these strange comments, kisses him again. There are bruises already forming on his skin. Leonard's hands and legs will paint him by tomorrow.

Leonard purrs at the thought, a resonant echo in his chest. In another room, a child starts wailing.

Mick groans and presses closer.

Reckless, reckless man.

* * *

Lightning doesn't deserve Barry Allen.

Lisa wrinkles her nose. She doesn't know his name, but when she picks her brother up from the forest she wrinkles her nose and says, "I like him," like she doesn't want to but  _can't help it_. At least they're in the same boat.

"I think we've got a nice rivalry goin' here, sis," Leonard replies, "Just made a nice little deal with our Scarlet Speedster."

Lisa purrs. The forest shudders. Animals burrow in their homes. "Do tell."

* * *

His dad comes back.

A bomb is put in his Lisa's neck. In his baby sister, his fucking reason to live, the only one who understands him on a level not even Mick Rory can reach.

No. No, no, no, this is unforgivable.

 _Vengeance_.

He hadn't realized it, not like he does not, swathed in Time's currents, but something unlocked then.

Barry helps him, because he's stupidly, beautifully heroic. (Leonard fantasizes about wrapping around him too, but the lightning would heal him too fast for him to leave a mark.) He catches Lewis' bullet, saves Lisa's life.

Lewis' terror tastes so very sweet.

"I thought you hated him."

"Not as much as I  _hate_ you."

Leonard wants to scream. He settles for watching Lewis die, burning ice in his heart.

His gun is gently taken from him. Leonard lets it. He feels―

"Lisa was safe. Why did you do that?"

He feels―

"He broke my sister's heart. Only fair I break his."

 _Satisfied_.

* * *

Lisa visits him in disguise. They speak in code. She's pissed she wasn't there, pissed at the whole situation, but she forgives him. She always forgives him.

Leonard wonders when she'll stop carrying his sins on her back.

"Take care of the heather while I'm gone," he says.  _Lie low._

She scoffs. "It's  _my_ heather."  _My favorite safe house._

Leonard smirks. "Dunno. Sometimes you let the roots get dry."  _I'll be back before you know it. I'll get out on my own._

Lisa's eyes glint. He could swear her pupils wink out a second. Must be a trick of the light.

"Never," she says.  _You better be._

Now Mick, he pays a conjugal visit. The guards sneer at him, but his wild eyes are fixed on Leonard.

"You killed him," he whispers, like he's staring at a work of art. "Fuck, Lenny, you're so fucking  _beautiful_."

Leonard constricts him. Mick needs something to remember him by.

* * *

"You would do anything to protect your sister."

"There's good in you, Snart."

"It's just a matter of time."

Barry sure loves to wax poetry. Leonard knows better than to listen to lightning, no matter how good a heart it's got.

He finds himself enthralled anyway. For a strange moment, he thinks his mother would be ashamed, but Sierra Baxter loved lightning storms.

Now Mardon, Leonard can believe lightning chose.

But that's not his concern. It's not, it's not, it's  _not_ , Len, go home to your sister, see your partner.

"Merry Christmas, Barry."

It's harder than it ought to be, abandoning Barry for familiar shores.

* * *

First of all, Carter Hall needs to keep his eyes to himself. Leonard doesn't like the way he's behaving around him―keeping his distance, like Leonard's a wild predator. While Leonard appreciates the fear, there's a hint of how his father used to look at him in that face, and he  _doesn't like it_.

("Want me to punch his pretty eyes out?" Mick murmurs.

Leonard relaxes a little with the image. He tries to sound scolding: "Not now, Mick."

Mick grins at him. He'll take that as a  _later_.)

Second of all, Rip Hunter speaks of legends.

Objectively, Leonard knows he's lying. Subjectively,  _time travel_.

(There's a niggling in the back of his head at the word.  _Legends._ He needs to go, needs to follow that word, but why? Why? Why?)

Of course, he's not going anywhere without his partner. He makes more pretty speeches that Mick's annoyed and reluctantly intrigued by, stupid little excuses that probably aren't fooling him. Still, he lets Leonard talk.

"You want me in, I'm in," he says, "but I'm not gonna be anyone's hero."

_Yes._

He visits his sister and tells her all about it, because they tell each other next to everything. Also,  _time travel_. And even though Rip clearly doesn't want her, he asks if she wants to come with.

Lisa grins and says, "Actually, I've got a little something going right here. If you get back in a few months, I might just show you."

Leonard raises his eyebrow. "That so?"

"Y'know how your scarlet boytoy talked about a Rogues' Gallery?"

Leonard feels blissfully cold. "Well. Don't let me stop you."

"Oh," Lisa says, "nobody will stop me, Lenny."

He playfully tugs at a strand of her hair. "Damn right."

(When he died, he could've sworn he heard her scream.)

* * *

It's pretty clear early on that Rip Hunter has absolutely no idea what he's doing.

But once Leonard is in the time stream, he feels so utterly at peace he finds himself making more excuses to stay. Watching it ebb and flow around the Waverider, even during those nauseating jumps, is like watching an ocean.

He dreams he's swimming in it. Rage whispers in his ear, and he wakes to Mick gurgling and Gideon telling him to _please let go of Mr. Rory._ As if Leonard actually would.

Every time, Mick groans hoarsely and paws at his clothes. "I wanna fuck you, Lenny. C'n I fuck you?"

Leonard prefers his fire ship over this tin can any day.

"Yeah," he always says.

When the team assembles next, they shoot Mick worried looks. Ain't the first time. Leonard likes to keep his own marks to himself, so people usually get the idea it's all one-sided and, laughably, something Mick doesn't actively consent to.

After every little sit-down Mick's subjected to, he and Leonard laugh. Then Mick grins, all wild recklessness, and says, "Do it again, Lenny."

And Leonard will get a lighter and push it in his hands. "You first."

* * *

Naturally, when Savage dares to damage his ship, Leonard's whole purpose changes. He's always had a thing for vengeance―best served cold, you know.

But when Savage sees him, he falters. When he looks at Leonard, he's got the same pinched expression Carter has.

"I'm gonna kill you anyway," Leonard snarls, "that's a promise."

Savage releases Mick. Just lets him go.

"Well," he says―he's  _nervous―_ "far be it from me to harm such a treasure."

Ray looks as confused as Leonard and Mick feel, but none of them are gonna look a gift horse in the mouth.

Carter dies. He professes his love like an idiot, but falls with a warning on his lips, his eyes glancing to Leonard. Nobody understands the words.

* * *

Vastok is lured in just like all the others. Leonard gets a special kind of joy watching Raymond's little confused face as he walks away with her on his arm.

When they've been walking a few minutes, she looks up at him through her eyelashes and says, "There is something about you."

Leonard smirks. "I've been told I have a sparkling personality."

"No," she murmurs, "it is something...powerful. Like there is more to you than what I am seeing."

Leonard thinks she means something entirely different. "You're right. I don't actually enjoy that ballet."

She laughs, but her curious look remains. He gives her a kiss and walks away.

Raymond is so very frustrated. Leonard quite enjoys it.

* * *

He's not enjoying anything.

His fire ship, his partner, has been taken, and it's all because Hunter didn't have the fucking  _balls_ to help him.

( _You didn't either_.  _Weak, weak flesh._ )

As his consciousness (is he conscious?) is swept under the waves of Time, he finds that he hadn't remembered how he'd eaten a fire opal from Mick's stash and ground a power tool into dust with his bare hand.

He hadn't remembered many, many things.

Star City―he'd choked Mick's arm candy right in the middle of the room. Mick watched, slack-jawed, as he crushed her bones and let her sink like a stone. And later, he hadn't hit Mick with his gun at all, but choked him until he blacked out.

He won't leave his ship in uncertain harbors. He doesn't care how pissed Mick is or how much he messes things up between them. He might regret it for a stupid second, dazed from cold and lack of oxygen, but he shoves it aside.

The time pirates―he chokes Mick then too. Sara watches, and there's tension in her face. Killer recognizing killer. Prey recognizing predator.

"Why not drop him off in 2016?" they ask.

Leonard stalls, makes some half-assed excuse about his sister that he doesn't believe for a second. Mick might wreak havoc on Central City, but she could stop him before he does too much damage. Still, he doesn't want Mick to go, because then Mick might want to stay home. Then where would they be?

But Leonard knows Mick can't be trusted with the team. They'll keep misunderstanding him until he snaps and sets them all aflame.

No. He'll drop Mick off somewhere quiet. A little pocket in time. And Leonard will return for him, just like always, only this time it'll be like no time has passed at all. The mission will be done, and Leonard will be able to follow him home.

It hurts. Oh, it's agony, leaving his fire ship. Always is. But the time stream is a comfort, with its swirling rapids and twisting riptides.

He'll be back.

* * *

Encountering Chronos face to face actually went a lot different than Leonard's human brain remembered too. The punishment held strong.

But now, Leonard breathes endless oceans and  _sees_.

 

 

Everything's the same right up until Chronos speaks of vengeance. Chronos, not Mick, because Mick would  _never_ threaten Lisa, but Mick is in there somewhere, just twisted and chained under those fucking Time Masters, and Leonard―

Leonard will not allow it.

"You're right."

Chronos turns, a pinch in his brow.

Leonard glances at the time stream. There it is―the feeling that he's  _more_. 

"Fire ain't the best thing. I like freedom, myself."

Chronos snarls, "You don't deserve it."

Leonard's fists clench. "And you don't deserve  _him_."

Before Chronos can do anything, he bites into his wrist. He, not his gun, tears off his hand. Chronos is yelling something, but he doesn't care what that fucker has to say.

Leonard stands, uncaring of the pooling blood. Chronos, for the first time, looks afraid.

"You can't have him," he hisses with stained teeth. "None of you can have him."

Chronos fights back, but Leonard gets his good hand around his throat.

"You can't have him," he keeps growling, "you can't have him, you can't―"

Chronos wheezes hoarsely. "Le―I―ah―"

"I'm taking you back," Leonard tells him, "and I'm not gonna let you go, you hear me? They come for you again, I'll sink every last one of their fucking ships and swallow 'em whole. They want you to hunt for vengeance? I was  _made_ for vengeance.  _I will have it_."

Chronos' eyes leak, bugging out of his skull. He claws at Leonard's wrist to no avail.

He roars fire back into his ship. The oceans tremble and froth, and Leonard can almost feel his skin tighten, like something is trying to  _get out_ ―

" _Give him back to me_!" he demands of them. The sea is  _his_ birthright, his and his beloved sister's, and he won't be denied. They can break him, confine him, but he will not be his mother, cursed to love warriors and lose them until rage is all she knows. He was made for more. So, so much more.

The timeline bows before him.

Mick stares up at him in amazement. Then he slips into unconsciousness.

Leonard takes his cold gun and freezes his arm, bellowing more rage and pain as it freezes black. Then he holsters it and takes Mick by the collar.

"Get us to Nanda Parbat!" he snaps at the ship.

The AI replies, "Of course, sir."

He drags Mick back to the Waverider.

Hunter magically produces a cell. "Not meant for long-term containment" his  _ass_. Fucking bastard.

* * *

"I open this door, we let our fists do the talking."

Leonard fully expects to die. This, right here, is how he will never get back to the Mick he left behind, so that the Mick he dragged back to sea will be able to sail free.

He should've known better. He and Mick, they're better at killing themselves than each other.

* * *

That night, he dreams of rage, rage, rage.

 _A human―you let a human―a_ human _―!_

"He's mine," he protests.

_I gave you a sister! I gave you everything!_

"You made me for more," he insists, "and I'll have more!"

The anger simmers. Only has itself to blame, and they both know it.

Funny how he only remembers the dream after he's dead.

* * *

He nearly hightails it off the ship with Mick, and fuck the consequences.

When he sees the Oculus, he knows why.

Thinks,  _So it's gonna be you_.

He could've used a prop to hold the failsafe. Could've run after Sara and Mick, could've seen his sister and her Rogues. But the Oculus is a bright siren's call, begging him to stay for its flood.

Leonard's gotta hand it to Time. It can make one helluva tsunami.

* * *

Is he still dying?

He doesn't really feel anything anymore, not even with his returned memories.

Maybe he'll just stay here forever. A shattered, unmoored mess scattered across the time stream.

_My son._

He wants to smile. Maybe he is? Or maybe he's giving the notion of smiling. Tomato, tomahto.

_My son. They broke you with that from which you were made. I will not let them._

She's not here for him, not really. He doesn't think she knows what real love is anymore. No, she just wants to show  _them_ that she won't be bested. She's finally found him again, her vengeance, and she won't waste the opportunity.

Her rage rebuilds him as he ought to be. It's slow and painful, burning cold with screams and untethered timelines. But Calypso refuses to stop.

After that, he doesn't know how much time passes, if it can pass here at all. He just knows that when ships pass, he snatches them just like he used to. His mother's child again.

She laughs in his ear, and he shudders in delight.

* * *

"What the hell is  _that_?!"

"Whatever it is, it's got us!"

"Fuck!"

"Gideon! Fire everything we've got!"

"I am trying, Captain Lance. But no ship has ever escaped this creature. Even Captain Hunter avoided it."

The monster's thick tentacles plasters itself to the glass. Thick suction cups suck and suck until the ship groans and cracks.

It roars.

Mick stiffens in his seat.

"Gideon! Hold your fire!"

"Mick!" Sara cries, "What are you doing?!"

Mick cuts his hand reaching through the holes in the windshield. It's impossible, he knows it is, but―but―

The creature seems to pause. All at once, the Waverider is yanked down. The team yells and curses.

The tentacle moves, revealing an eye at least five times Mick's size. A hazel eye that changes with the lighting, with little distortions in the pupil that Mick always found himself admiring. Gave an otherworldly look.

Guess he'd been right about that. Suddenly, a whole lotta things Snart ever said make  _so much sense_.

It's the Kraken, no doubt about it. Smooth, iridescent blue hide, octopus body, Cthulu-esque head, absolutely fucking enormous. Teeth made for devouring everything from raw gems to flesh, which it shows as it roars again and makes Mick's ears bleed.

Yet it's a roar Mick's heard before, through human lips. He should've known Snart wasn't just different.

Shit. He's fucked the  _Kraken_.

Or maybe he's just delirious and he's about to die. Wouldn't be the first time.

The monster flings them away. Mick slams into the bulkhead.

When he opens his eyes, he's on his back and the Waverider's smoking, and Len is kneeling over him, blinking too-big, lidless eyes and pressing slimy, fingerless paws to his face that suck at his skin.

Len has no lips or nose. He keeps tilting his head this way and that, like Mick is a jewel in a case. The back of his head seems to droop, boneless. Mick tries to see the rest of him, but he doesn't have legs. Just a mess of tentacles and scarred torso without nipples or navel.

"M...ck..."

Amaya's voice snaps him out of it.

Around them, the team is pressed to the floor and the walls with tentacles around their throats.

"Let 'em go," Mick says. He can't sit up; Snart's too strong. "Lenny. Let 'em go."

"L―?" Sara gurgles.

Ray wheezes. "Sn―a―?"

A slow, hoarse breath billows out of Len. His mouth curls and twists. Blue lips form.

"Why?" he asks, thousands of years of rage echoing in his voice.

Mick grips his arms. They're freezing. "You like 'em. Gave your life for them."

"I don't like them," Len hisses, "They hurt you. I gave my life for you and my sister." His voice trills a little when he mentions Lisa.

"You're just out of it."

"No." A thumb squishes and crackles from the right paw, touching Mick's lips with salt and ozone and old blood. "I felt it. I just didn't realize what it was. They didn't care what they did to you, so long as you did what you were told. Whipped you like an  _animal_. I almost lost you again because of them."

Bones grind behind him.

"Give me one good reason to let them live," Len says.

Mick opens his mouth, a thousand bullshit answers on his tongue.

What comes out is, "'Cause I want them alive."

The team crashes to the ground.

Len wrinkles his snout until there's a nose. He sniffs. "I don't know what you see in them."

"Give it time," Mick says, "you'll remember."

Len gives a bestial snort and gathers his tentacles back. There are more slithering from his arms and back.

Mick is not getting a new kink. No.  _No_.

Len kisses him. "My fire ship."

Damn it.

" _How_?" Sara demands between coughs.

Len smirks, eyes rolling as he blinks with clear membranes. "I made a deal with my mother. I get my ship and walk on land, and in return I go to the sea during the summer and fulfill my purpose."

" _What_?" Jax snaps. He looks more exhausted and frustrated than anything now.

"Made for revenge," Mick mutters. "You weren't kiddin'."

Len smiles with blades of teeth. "Hades hath no fury like an nymph scorned."

"At this point," Mick says, "I really ain't surprised stuff like you are real." He pauses. "You really gotta go?"

Len chomps on his throat. Sara throws a knife at his back. It's flicked away with a flippant tentacle, same as Amaya's rhino charge. Firestorm burns him. He still doesn't react.

When he pulls away, Mick's blood splattered on his mouth and chin, the wounds scar. Four thick, ropy stripes on each side of Mick's neck.

"There," the monster trills.

" _Ow_?" Mick growls.

"What? I had to give you gills. I'm not going anywhere without you."

"Oh, what the  _fuck_ ," Jax groans.

* * *

The Snart siblings stand on a beach. Summer beams at the water, making is sparkle invitingly.

Len drags his sister to it.

"Lenny!" Lisa laughs, "What's the rush? I wanna tan!"

Len grins at her. "I gotta show you somethin', sis."

"Show me what?"

Mick peeks up from the water. "Will you get your asses in here?"

"Don't worry," Len says, holding his sister tight, "you're gonna love this."

**Author's Note:**

> I know. I butchered myths so bad. But hey, if Rick Riordan can do it...?


End file.
